I Walk the Line
by LunaStories
Summary: He was blue- and I was green. We are equals, dominant. Or so I believed. He was a primary color and I was secondary. Mix us together and you get a different shade of blue. He remains unaffected, I am consumed.


**A/N: Hey guys, I've been really busy due to my first year of college but my Thanksgiving break is coming up so I can write more. I shall be updating random ongoing stories of mine. Or I might even upload a new one shot. Whatever inspires me more.**

 **I've been having some difficulty trying to get into writing again so I'm mostly writing one shots in an attempt to get back into the groove. Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy this new fic of mine.** **This fic is inspired by Halsey's 'I Walk the Line' and a little bit of her 'Colors' song.**

 **I wrote this in 40 minutes and it's unbeta-ed so excuse any errors.**

xxxxxx

Watching him fight was like an epiphany.

It was tasting the words on the tip of his tongue, it was eating his passion and anger.

It was consuming his blue tinted soul.

His enemies never realized how lucky they were to be treated to such a sight.

As lethal as it was, his legs possessed a power that not only destroyed the opposition but also coaxed them into his lean body. Those endless legs wrapped around hips. Wet heat.

His affection was rare and far in between. To receive it was like having an arrow shot through your heart, unexpected and unwelcome. The more affection received the more your body felt like it was drowning in a pool of its own blood, shot full of holes from someone you least expected to betray you like this.

He was blue-

and I was green.

We are equals, dominant. Or so I believed. He was a primary color and I was secondary.

Mix us together and you get a different shade of blue. He remains unaffected, I am consumed.

His love was agony to behold and his anger was purifying.

His pain was poison and liquid anger in a shot, injecting me with all consuming vengeance.

Watching him heal was a quiet affair. A grumbling of how he could have handled the situation himself only made my heart bleed quicker in fondness. He doesn't need someone like me to cover for him. He can protect himself.

I walk the line every time I talk to him, I toe the boundary set between us every time I show signs of caring.

And so I smirk and insult his fighting skills- those glorious sinuous legs- because his anger excuses my actions and I can continue this facade, until my heart can bleed no more.

xxxxxx

Watching him fight was a war in itself.

It was a hurricane of madness and dark intent, a natural disaster with no leash and no owner.

Impossible to control, impossible to catch up to, and little possibility of survival.

His enemies never see him coming, his movements smooth and controlled, a lesson in destruction.

Those hands, his mouth, hold some of the most lethal weapons on the seas. But it can also be gentle and teasing, warm and callused palms bringing you immense pleasure.

The grumpy disposition he possesses and the unnecessary protectiveness he exhibits is like injecting an addictive drug into your system. A litany of desire and hazy want, an all consuming feeling of elation.

His love shatters me and his anger is numbing.

It was feeding him lies with a broken smile. It was watching apathetically as he tried to pull himself together and hide his feelings. It was ignoring the myriad of opportunities he presented and injecting my brain with another shot of denial.

It was putting a gun to my own head and pulling the trigger.

A spray of red corrupting the air and spreading in the hearts of those around me. All wishful thinking and something that would never happen. Escape from reality is never that easy.

Outside forces will not unravel me; this sensation of falling is enough to eat me up from the inside out, until there's nothing left but the truth.

I continue watching him struggle, I keep a close watch on his bleeding heart, I keep my eyes wide open at the poison spreading in my veins. This love, this delusion.

Because he's mine, I walk the line.

 _fin_

 **A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed that. As you can see (if any old readers of mine are still around) I used a different style of writing. I'm feeling melancholy, and this is the result. I was trying to convey the feeling of helplessly falling in love. Of being unsure and being consumed by this love. Desperation and want.**

 **Please do leave a review or a favorite or whatever as it feeds the cold dark pit where my heart is supposed to be. Each and every review is greatly appreciated and it really helps me write more.**

 **Edit: My other fic (just uploaded) "404 Error" is a sequel of this fic.**


End file.
